The word “accountability” seems impossible to avoid for anyone paying attention. Repeatedly, people with power abuse their position. Repeatedly, communities clamor for accountability, a just outcome for all affected persons, and satisfying solutions that will excise the rot from which harm festers and breeds. It is difficult not to feel disillusioned by the usual wishy-washy or dismissive responses, feigned ignorance, and lack of material progress in terms of repairing harm and promoting safety. How are we supposed to hold people accountable, so to speak, if they won’t take accountability?

An examination of our cultural rejection of humanity’s interconnectedness with each other, the ecosystem, and various natural cycles for the sake of endless exponential growth and parasitic profit margins. Putting life, death, and internal inclinations into perspective through the cyclical nature of the seasons. And questioning the need to appear evergreen - a resource ready for use - always in a state of doing, just to get by.

On December 14, I was lucky enough to attend the PNW premiere of Life on the Moon, a play written by Anna Tatelman, directed by Jeremy Radick, and produced by Baker Theater Workshop. Hosted at ReAct Theatre, Life on the Moon is a family drama that centers on the relationship between siblings Piper, an 18-year-old with autism, and her older brother Spencer, who has just returned home from the army for the holidays.

Communion Restaurant & Bar sits inside the historic Liberty Bank Building in the heart of Seattle’s Central District. For me, this wasn’t just dinner; it was a return to my roots. I grew up on 20th & Union, and this exact spot used to be Thompson’s Point of View, a restaurant I frequented all through elementary school. Eating here felt like stepping into a memory with a modern twist.

Drums rolled from the brick alleyways and converged upon the square, each musician followed by a small mass of people. They carried things with them: Bits of furniture and fragments of wood. Dresser drawers and desk tops. One group hoisted a billboard overhead from one of the Upper City’s tech institutions. 

Crow’s Nest Comics, formerly the beloved Outsider Comics shop of Fremont, has made the move to a much cozier location in Central District, just a tiny walk from I-90 (or the 7 or 554 bus will get you just a block away). Though the shop has moved and changed names, they are still offering their warm, inviting atmosphere, stunning collection, and commitment to accessibility, all from a better location.

One of the greatest joys about fashion is finding the perfect fit. Yet for fat or plus-size shoppers, that joy is rare, often overshadowed by an exhausting search for options that barely exist.
Earlier this year, in partnership with Seattle Restored, the Seattle Fall Mall emerged as a pop-up community space in Downtown Seattle where being fat or plus-size was centered and celebrated.
For eight months, the founders—Amber and Alyss Seelig, Candace Frank, and Kwame Phillips-Solomon—brought together local artists and fashion designers who challenge industry norms through body positivity and collective liberation.

So here I am: rebuilding, relearning, re-everything. Washington State, bless its procedural little heart, makes you wait a full 90 days before you can even finalize a divorce. Raggedy. I could’ve been free by now, had my soon-to-be-ex not spent nine rounds avoiding the process server like it was tag at recess. So yes, I’m irritated.

I winced when my therapist—a doctor, mind you—named him a narcissist who love-bombed me at the beginning. You could’ve held my hand for that, sis.

Their exhibit opened to the public for a one-day event on Saturday, November 15 at Studio 18 Artist Collective. “This is a very historically [sic] arts building. They used to throw raves here in the ‘90s, early 2000s,” Reinhardt stated. The building is tucked beside train tracks underneath busy roadways—empty and bustling all at once. At the top of a thin staircase was the gallery opening, alive with visitors and music.

Last year I was privileged to speak with local filmmaker Shea Formanes about her first feature, I Watched Her Grow. Recently, Shea and I spoke again, this time about shooting a short film she is currently working on. We spoke about her process and how this particular film, titled Diwata (a Filipino word meaning “muse”) went from an idea into her current project. We also went into great detail about how a film like this gets made and the partnerships she found along the way.

Each femme featured their own unique prop or presentation. Some read Queer theory, some read Sappho, and some read two books at once. The queens who weren’t reading were reapplying their makeup, doing the splits, singing Chappell Roan, or giving flowers out to the crowd. To gain their favor, contestants would flirt with the audience through notes, suggestive gestures, handfed strawberries, and at one point a collar-and-leash lead.

I think Trans* people should be in control of their own stories the same way I believe that any community should be in control of their own stories. This isn’t to say that other writers can’t include Trans* characters in their stories—they absolutely should—but that Trans* folks should be the ones to own the Trans* narrative. We should decide what is an authentic recounting of our own experiences. No one else knows the experience like we do, and when others take over our stories, they tell it wrong, boiling down the Trans* experience to stereotypes: focusing on surgery, making their Trans* characters completely androgynous, or minimizing the experiences of dysphoria.

Corey Skullcrusher, an artist with the Waiting Room, appeared in full aristocratic flamboyance to accompany their “monstrosity.” From dress to wig to bloody neck, Skullcrusher embodied beheaded nobility. The presence of such elegance brought forward a message of resistance. Skullcrusher explained that the guillotine was historically the most humane way to oust those who were abusing power. While the golden cardboard guillotine may be a bit campy and cheeky, “it’s very specifically a message.”

The strike comes in response to years of unsuccessful bargaining sessions in which Starbucks dismissed their workers’ concerns, chief among them proper staffing and increased wages. A key issue in this strike is Starbucks’ liberal use of union-busting tactics. SBWU has filed over one thousand ULPs (unfair labor practice suits), citing hundreds of unresolved labor law violations such as retaliatory firings, withholding tips, store closures, and unfair staffing cuts.

For Today I Am A Boy by Kim Fu stopped me dead in my tracks. 

The pure poetry in every line feels like something akin to Medeline Miller (The Song of Achilles) or Ocean Vuong (On Earth We Are Briefly Gorgeous), easy-breezy but powerful, simple and complicated. It is difficult to find a writer quite like Fu, with such command over a narrative, seamlessly moving between past, present, and future without a single falter. Each line felt like its own universe so carefully crafted, and the whole novel moved like a symphony harmonizing in unison. 

The bitter adage, “Seattle isn’t what it used to be,” recently increased in circulation after the shocking news of the Crocodile shuttering the doors of Here-After and Madame Lou’s. In their statement, the Crocodile asserted that they are committed to the longevity of their main stage—unfortunately, it comes at the cost of their smaller comedy and music venues.

Cosplay has a rich history often overlooked in the mainstream geek/nerd culture. As an artform often seen as ‘cringe’ or ‘embarrassing,’ a lot of people don’t know much about the cosplay scene or its events, but the truth is that it’s a vibrant community of dedicated fans, crafters, and performers. To separate cosplay from fandom culture is a disservice, as cosplay remains one of the oldest expressions of fan dedication along with fanfiction, conventions, meet-ups, and fanart. 

“People on food stamps are lazy!” A phrase I and many others have heard too often. In the summer of 2019, I was in my 2nd year at the Seattle Aquarium, managing a little over 400 community partnerships, serving on several boards and committees, and I had just become the newest member of the Washington State Environmental Justice Task Force. 

I was also on SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program) benefits. Food stamps. 

October 27, 2025, marked the 25th annual Gregory Awards held by Theatre Puget Sound. Performers, designers, and theatre makers and lovers all filed into Town Hall Seattle decked in their finest fashion for a night to celebrate the artistry and creation of the performing arts. After an hour to mingle, socialize, and give toast to the year’s winner of the Gregory A. Falls Sustained Achievement Award (John Bradshaw), guests gathered in the pews of the Great Hall for the start of the ceremony.

On the evening of Monday October 27, actors, theater crew, directors, and producers (along with their families and friends) gathered at Town Hall Seattle for The Gregorys. Twenty-five years of celebration and recognition from and for the theatre community, the theme apt and invited dazzling outfits: One Night, Many Stars.